Snogwarts: Don't Tell Arthur
by SNOGWARTS
Summary: She wanted him. Not Arthur, not anyone really specifically. But Alastor was here, and Merlin, he was being so very, very sensual right now.


SNOGWARTS: Don't Tell Arthur

By GOLD fish 945  
Assigned by Verbal Klepto

Molly Weasley was, generally, a very happy woman. She had a flaring temper that could break on the slightest provocation and she was constantly, obsessively worried about Harry and her children, but despite those circumstances, Molly was really quite perky.

However, as she sat next to her eldest son's sickbed, some of her worst fears realized before her eyes, she felt anything but happy. Bill was still asleep, and Fleur had followed his lead, snoozing on his knee in what looked like a very uncomfortable position, her blonde hair fluttering as she breathed. Molly could not make herself move to fix Fleur's position though, despite the fact that she and Fleur were finally now on the same page.

Fleur's determination to marry Bill, despite his horrific and disfiguring scars, had truly won Molly over. The two had hugged and cried, happy to know that someone else loved their Bill as much as they did – albeit in very different ways.

But Molly could not move to save her future daughter-in-law's probable back pain. She was far too angry. The glow of the prospect of new family on the horizon, while very exciting and happy an occasion, could only last so long the wake of Albus Dumbledore's death and Bill's terrible injuries. Though Remus had said, only hours before, that Bill would be alright, that he would not transform, that he would only have 'wolfish qualities,' Molly could not help but mourn the true loss of her son's innocence. He no longer had the face that Molly associated with growing up, with simultaneous heartbroken and pride.

Molly's heart felt constricted now, with both fear and longing. The fear was obvious – You-Know-Who, alive, murderous, his eye fixed on Harry, and his Death Eaters entering Hogwarts undetected. It was a miracle that only one had died. Molly shuddered. The whole situation was enough to make any mother quake with horror.

But the longing, that was something else entirely.

Her marriage to Arthur had always been – she chuckled to herself – fruitful. Seven children, all of whom she loved dearly. William, Charles, Percy, Fredrick, George, Ronald, and Ginevra. Her children, her life, her light. As Molly contemplated her children, she knew (though she was ashamed to admit it) that she had her favorites. Bill and Ginny were her babies, her first and last – her first-born son, and her only daughter. She did not feel bad about having favorites among her children. They were all favored by someone in the family or out. Uncle Bilius had loved Fred and George. Hagrid had adored Charlie. And Arthur – he loved his two underdogs the best, the two that always seemed sadly overlooked and overshadowed by their brothers and sister in so many ways – Percy and Ron.

So, of course, when Arthur and Percy had their row two summers before, the effect had been colossal upon him, on many levels. Molly, for her part, had been crushed. She had always been so proud of Percy – prefect, Head Boy, ambitious – but now? Choosing to place his trust in the Ministry of Magic, for sake of ambition, over his family? The blow had destroyed her, but Arthur's reaction had been nothing short of horrific. But no one had known except for her.

The hurt of losing the trust of one of his sons – one of his favorites – had made Arthur fear his abilities (or lack thereof) as a parent. So, he avoided the one thing that had made him a parent in the first place – sex.

It wasn't as though he didn't love Molly. She knew, in her mind, that he did, that he would not stay with her if he did not. But in her heart, this blow on top of Percy's betrayal had made all of Percy's following rejections that much worse. Arthur's fear and insecurity worsened each time Percy pushed them – _him_ – further away.

So, after a steady decline in their sex life, all contact had stopped after Christmas. That had been the worst – the hope that Percy would return and fix everything, only to find that Scrimgeour had used him to get into the Weasley household and try to recruit Harry. Then to have that hope dashed as Percy stormed away with the Minister, refusing to let them in, to let her take care of him again.

Molly could not even remember the last time she and her husband had comforted each other by making love. Had it been right before Christmas, before the children had come home? Or was it after they had left for Hogwarts? Or even farther back still, during Ron's fifth year, Ginny's fourth? She could not recall. Arthur's love was no longer there for her when things got… bad.

This moment proved that. Anger pricked at Molly's numb senses. Where was Arthur? His first-born son was lying in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, unconscious, because of a werewolf attack, and what was Arthur doing? Who knew, but it certainly wasn't what he _should_ be doing!

Then Molly heard the hospital door open and then close. Her heart soared – surely it was Arthur, finally coming to do his duty to his son and wife! She felt herself relax a little. Even if Arthur refused to touch her sexually, he would still hold her hand and comfort her emotionally. Arthur would never abandon them. She was sure it was him.

_Thunk_. Footstep. _Thunk._ Footstep.

"Hey, Molly," said a harsh, gruff voice that did not belong to Arthur Weasley. Molly stiffened.

"Alastor," she replied, fury evident in her voice. It wasn't aimed at poor Alastor Moody, though, but unfortunately he did not know that.

"Am I bothering you?" he growled, a tad offended.

"No, it isn't you," Molly said, her jaw tight. "_Arthur_ finds it a waste of time to sit by his injured son, apparently."

_Thunk._ Footstep. _Thunk._

"I could sit with you for a while, if you'd like," Alastor said, slowly lowering himself, with a groan, into the seat beside her, which was meant for Arthur. She simply nodded. She wasn't about to admit it, not right now while she was so angry, but she was glad that Moody would sit with her.

'_Fuck Arthur,' _she thought savagely. _'I don't need him. I need someone who will be there for me! Someone who will actually care about me, and my children, above their own stupid whims about Muggle electricity and postal systems!'_

A moment later Molly realized, with horror, that she had said this aloud to Alastor.

"I'm so sorry!" she sputtered. "Please don't tell Arthur I'm angry… We're going through a bit of a rough patch, and I'm just letting out my anger. I don't mean that."

"Y'do," he growled at her. "If you think Arthur's not there for you, you're damn mistaken! Look all he's sacrificed for you!"

"He won't even sit with his son!" she fought back. "He's sacrificed nothing for _me_. He's sacrificed for Harry, and Dumbledore, and the Order! I just want him back the way he was before all of this… this ridiculousness!"

"Well, this ridiculousness will have to go away before that can happen," said Alastor. "You know that times are hard right now. Some people react differently." He looked at her now, with both eyes fixed on her. "But to be honest, Molly, I haven't noticed much of a change in Arthur. I'm pretty sure that he's in a meeting right now. Minerva called one, and Arthur assumed you'd rather be with Bill than listen to something he can fill you in on later." She scowled.

"Is the meeting over?"

"Not quite," he said. "I already know the gist, so I left. Thought I'd check up on Bill, see if he was awake or not." Molly huffed.

"What's the meeting about?"

"Potter," said Moody, rolling his dark eye. "Stupid kid. Thinks that he's going off on some mission Albus left him. Total crap if you ask me. Says he's not going back to Hogwarts and –"

Alastor continued, but Molly didn't hear him, horror washing over her as she contemplated what this meant. If Harry was going away, to do something he thought Albus had wanted him to do, she knew what that meant. Ron and Hermione, and maybe even Ginny, would follow him. They would try to help him, as they had for years. Ron. Arthur's other favorite, purposefully putting himself in as much danger as he could possibly be in. Molly felt her stomach clench in fear.

Of course, there was fear for Ron, Harry, and Hermione. She would have to refuse. Ron was absolutely not allowed to go. He could not leave. He would die.

And Arthur would never even look at her again if he was worried about Ron. She let out a little gasp of fear and pain.

"Molly?" She looked at Alastor, and she tell her face was white as sheet. "You alright there?"

She contemplated telling Alastor all of the problems she was having with Arthur, telling him that Arthur would not touch her, that he could not look at her with desire anymore, ever since Percy's betrayal. She thought of telling him exactly why he hadn't noticed a difference in Arthur, because Alastor was not having sex with him. Although, Molly thought wryly, neither was she. She thought about informing him of why Ron could not go with Harry and Hermione, because she loved him, and he would probably end up dead. And because Arthur… Arthur would not let her comfort him, and he would not comfort her, if Ron left.

She knew it was selfish of her, both wanting Ron to stay and wanting to tell Alastor all of her problems. So she bit her tongue.

"No," she whispered. "I'm not alright."

"What's the matter?" asked Moody, his voice low and smooth, for once not rough. Molly shivered.

"I can't…" she said. "Arthur wouldn't approve."

"You just said, 'fuck Arthur' not ten minutes ago," he pointed out.

"Yes, I know," she said. "But I can't… I haven't told anyone… It's so embarrassing to admit…" This was true. This was one of the main reasons she hadn't told anyone yet. But this was not why she was not telling Alastor.

The main reason was because she feared that he would tell Arthur everything she said.

"Molly," whispered Alastor, "something's wrong. If you and Arthur are… if you're having problems, you need to talk about them. To me, to him, to _anyone_. You need to understand what you want and need from each other, so you can move forward in your relationship. You can trust me," continued Alastor. "If you don't want me to tell anyone, even Arthur, I won't." His _eyes_ blazed. Both eyes were staring right back into hers. Despite the difference in size, they both seemed normal. The blue eye was not struggling to continue it's haphazard path around the room. And very suddenly, Molly really _felt _what might have been a year's worth of sexual tension actually meant.

She wanted him. Not Arthur, not anyone really specifically. But Alastor was here, and _Merlin_, he was being so very, very sensual right now. And she doubted that he even knew it. She doubted he knew _how_ to be sensual or sexy. He was a rather awkward looking fellow. But he had a big heart, and truly cared for everyone he protected. And he was so _connected_, to everyone in some way. He was a bit strange, a bit odd and uncomfortable, but everyone had their quirks.

And before she realized what she had done, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Alastor's scarred mouth. He froze.

"Molly…" he said warningly.

"No," she whispered. "No, you don't understand." And everything spilled. She told him everything. "Ever since Percy, he won't even look at me. It's like everything's fallen away, nothing matters but Percy and his betrayal to our family. I know Arthur thinks about it all the time, he mopes around the house every day, and it kills me to see it. But why doesn't he think that he can tell me that he misses Percy, that he loves Percy? I miss Percy! I love Percy! He won't let me comfort him because he's so afraid of what he's screwed up with all of them! He's pulling away from them, and from me! He's throwing himself into his stupid work and the stupid Order, and he's neglecting the whole reason that we're _in_ the Order! W-We're in the Order for people we _love_!" Tears began to cascade down Molly's cheeks as her voice rose, and Alastor tried to shush her for Bill and Fleur, but it did not work. He hastily pulled her into Madame Pomfrey's office and shut the door, placing a Silencing Charm on it, so as not to disturb the sleeping patients.

"Let it out, Molly," he whispered then. And she did. She cried and cried on Alastor's shoulder, crying for release, for Arthur, for Percy, and for some _feeling_ to return to her.

"The on-only thing I can _feel_ anymore is w-worry!" she moaned, crushing herself against Alastor's oddly shaped body. "I'm s-so _tired_ of worrying! I need to f-feel something _else_, if I'm planning on s-surviving this war! And Ar-Arthur won't _let me feel anything else_!"

"I'm sure if he knew, Molly," began Moody.

"_N-No!_" she practically shouted. She let out a mournful sob. "A-Arthur doesn't _want_ to feel anyth-thing but worry! He just w-wants to _brood_ over Percy and forget everything but the Order and proving Percy wr-wrong! I can't _st-stand_ it anymore, Alastor!"

As she said his name, he relaxed a bit, putting a hand on her lower back, and wrapping his other arm around her shoulders.

"Molly," he said, as though chastising a small child. "_Constant vigilance_! Arthur will come 'round. You just need to _talk_ to him!" But Molly shook her head.

"We barely talk…" she said, her voice sounding very throaty. "We talk about the Order, about Harry and the kids and You-Know-Who, but never about _us_, or about Percy."

Moody was holding her close, rubbing soothing circles into her back, calming her. But in her calm, she knew that everything she had said in her hysterics was true. Arthur had no interest in anything but Voldemort, the Order, Harry, and Percy. Least of all her – she was like a rock in his life, holding him up, but nothing more. Just a rock. Not a woman to be loved or cherished or held, just a plain, grey, lumpy, hard, stone rock. And it _hurt_.

And she wanted to hurt him back.

This time, she grasped onto Alastor's face as she kissed him, refusing to pull away when he jerked in surprise. He pushed lightly against her for a moment, but then she felt him shudder and ease into the kiss.

It was very, very different from kissing Arthur. Where Arthur was soft and smooth, Moody was hard and angular. Where Arthur was gentle, Alastor was rough. And Molly _liked_ it. As he lost his inhibitions, he pushed her against the wall of Pomfrey's office, slamming her between cold, stone, wall and warm, hard-muscled, body. Soon, hands were everywhere. She wasn't even quite sure whose hands were where, but she didn't care. She could feel something, something so strong and heady, which was trying to burst out of her. She felt years younger. The beauty she'd had as a young girl had disappeared with age and child bearing, but at this moment, alone with Alastor, she felt beautiful again.

And his tongue, she mused, was surprisingly experienced. She had never thought of Alastor Moody as the type with much sexual experience. As far as she knew, he was a life-long bachelor. But _Merlin_, he knew what he was doing, body pushing against her in all the right ways, lips gasping her name, tongue attacking her neck. It was heaven. Finally, someone would give her what she wanted, what she _needed_. Love, attention, adoration… The things Arthur had given her before, but seemed to think insignificant now that Percy was being a royal prick…

Molly let out a gasping laugh at her own thoughts. She sounded like Fred. Perhaps she had given more to the twins than she had thought. But not now, now was not the time to think of her children.

Though clothed, Molly was sure she could feel every line of Alastor's body. She could feel scars through his clothes. His arms enveloped her completely, and she raked her hands over his torso, feeling the muscles that had refused to soften with age. It may have been only been seconds, but it could have been minutes, hours, hell, even _days_. There was nothing so perfect as Alastor's hands and lips on her.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

Alastor stood away from her by three feet, staring at her, his blue eye swiveled around in his head. He was gasping, with a horrified look on his face.

_Arthur._

It was plainly written on his face. Molly bolted, scurrying to her son's bedside, and as she hurried out of the door of Pomfrey's office, a cold reality settled in her chest.

She had cheated. She had cheated on Arthur Weasley, the man who had captured her heart from the age of fourteen, who had fought through wind, rain, snow, sleet, and much stronger Quidditch players for her, who had given her seven beautiful, wonderful, intelligent children, and who had always loved her, no matter how angry she got.

Molly felt dirty, sickeningly so. Alastor slumped in after her and sat down in the chair.

"Don't tell Arthur," she said immediately, trying to fix her appearance. He said nothing, but she took it as an affirmative. A moment later, the door of the hospital creaked open, and Arthur, along with Minerva, Filius, and Remus, all of whom looking quite disheveled, walked in. Molly felt flustered and scared, afraid to look Arthur in the eyes. She did not feel worthy of him anymore. Alastor stood, letting Arthur take his customary seat beside her. Molly shied away from him, trying to take up as little room as she could. She was absolutely horrified with herself.

People bustled in and out of the hospital for hours. Molly was bursting, the whole time to tell Arthur everything, to beg for his forgiveness.

Finally, Fleur awakened and left to get food, taking all the stragglers with her. At last, it was just Molly, Arthur, and a still-sleeping Bill. Molly knew she had to tell. He had to know how awful she was, how she didn't deserve him. She opened her mouth to speak, but he spoke before she could find the right words.

"Molly, I'm sorry," he breathed quietly next to her.

"What for?" she gasped.

"Don't," he said, closing his eyes in anguish. "Don't. Don't act like you don't know what's going on with me. You know… P-Percy…" He put his face in his hands. "It's like a splinter in the back of my mind… I pulled away because of him and his stupid –" She could hear him grinding his teeth in an effort not to curse at their son.

"Don't grind your teeth," she chastised quietly. He took a deep breath.

"I pulled away from you," he continued, as though it had never happened. "I-I can't even remember the last time we –" He could not speak again. Molly felt tears brimming behind her eyes. "I was so sure you were going to leave me," he admitted, as though admitting to a horrible sin. A sin like hers. "I was so sure you were going to get fed up with me, and tell me to 'hell with you and your problems!' I don't know why, because I know you love me, but I was so afraid. And then, that fear made me back off even more. You deserve so much better than what I'm giving you right now, Molly. I'm so sorry, but I-I can't…" He looked into her eyes, desperately fearful.

"_Where did I go wrong?_" he moaned after a moment. "What did I do to make him think that he couldn't trust my judgment?"

"It's his ambition, Arthur," said Molly, wanting so badly to lay a comforting hand around his shoulder, but she held herself back. If he knew, he would not want her to touch him. "He wants to _be_ somebody to the world, not just to us. He wants fame and riches. Things that you never gave him, because you did what you love instead of just working to make money."

Arthur shuddered next to her, and suddenly, so suddenly, and so surprisingly, he reached out to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer across her chair.

"I m-miss him, Molly," he moaned. "My boy, Percy… He was the only one who was ever _really _interested in learning. He was the only one who would ever let me talk and talk about Muggle nonsense, because he wanted to _know_! None of the others were like that… Not even R-Ron…" Molly almost snorted, but she held herself.

"I know, sweetheart," she said, the endearment falling easily from her lips, tasting like betrayal. Slowly, he calmed down, but he never let go of Molly. She realized with a jolt that this was the closest they'd come to sex in who knew how long. She was even more surprised to realize that Arthur was kissing her lightly on the neck, on the same side that Alastor had. She shuddered.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice a breath against her skin.

"Nothing," she lied. "Nothing. I'm just worried about Bill."

"Mmm," Arthur breathed against her neck. "You worry far too much, dear." He chuckled a little. "I know it's hard not to worry right now, but I promise that I'll be better now."

"What do you mean?" Arthur moved from his comfortable position leaning on her shoulder, and his blue eyes blazing. Molly felt her stomach clench, only this time it was not from fear. "Arthur?"

"I _mean_," said Arthur quietly, "I'm going to make this last year up to you. I realized everything tonight, when I saw our children fighting those Death Eaters. I can't spend my time focusing on Percy. I need to accept that my son and I don't agree on this issue, and that this issue has pushed us apart. There's nothing I can do now. I can't compromise, and apparently he can't either. So I have to move on. I have to accept reality. I can't hold onto the childish though that my children will always agree with everything I say, like they did when they were young. They have to grow up some time, and Percy is just… the one who's different. He always has been."

"Arthur, this is more than Percy 'being different,'" said Molly. "This is Percy being, to quote Fred, 'the world's biggest prat'." Arthur chuckled.

"For once, I think Fred is being too kind to Percy," he admitted, putting his hands over his eyes and leaning over a bit. "And I feel horrible about it. If I could just… Ugh. I can't even tell you what I'd say to Percy if he came for my forgiveness. I might say no. I might beg him to take my forgiveness. I might just accept it, and keep him at arm's length for the rest of my life."

"Arthur…"

"No, no," he said, shaking his head, as though trying to make his memories disappear. "I can't think about it anymore. If he comes back, he comes back, and I'll deal with it then. If not, then I can't brood on it anymore." Molly felt a small smile on her face, and Arthur's confidence in her made her forget her guilt for a moment.

"Arthur," she said gently, "I think that that is a very good idea. I think that's very mature of you, and very intelligent. I agree."

"And Molly, the most important thing," he said, sitting upright again, putting a hand on Molly's cheek, stroking her face with his thumb. "The _most_ important thing is for you to know that I _love_ you, and I am so sorry. I'll do everything I can to make it up to you. You deserve better than what I've been giving you. I promise, I'll make it better."

Molly was so torn. Her heart was expanding with joy at Arthur's words, his promise and declaration that erased all of her fears about their relationship. But at the same time, she felt cold all over, burning to tell him the truth, to let him know how it was not she who was deserving of better, but he.

Arthur seemed to be waiting for a response, but Molly could only look at him. She wanted to know her plan before she spoke.

She could tell Arthur. She would be a good wife if she told him, honest and true. But then he would take back everything he'd just said. It would be far worse than Percy's betrayal, because this time it would be her own betrayal.

Or she could keep this to herself. It was the first time she had ever even considered doing anything with anyone but Arthur since before they were married. She had no intention of _ever_ repeating the incident, especially when it gave her this cold, sick feeling in her stomach. Arthur would be blissfully ignorant, and Molly would act as though nothing had happened.

She decided.

"I love you, too, Arthur," she whispered. "I believe you. I know you haven't been like this because you wanted to be. It's just been hard…" Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, Molly, I was so afraid to even tell you," he admitted, leaning back onto her shoulder, completely at ease. "I was so afraid you would tell me it was too late for us."

"It's never too late for us, Arthur," she said, smiling. The cold, sick feeling was not gone, but Molly knew that, with time, it would ease. She knew that sometimes, you needed perspective on a situation before you could fully understand the pros and cons. She now had perfect hindsight, and perspective, on her marriage with Arthur.

"I know, I know," he said, though he sounded thoroughly reassured. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep on her shoulder. After a few moments alone with her thoughts, Molly raised her wand and levitated Arthur onto the bed beside Bill's, leaving just enough room for her next to him.

She knew now, from both the cold ache in her stomach and the elation in her heart from Arthur's words, that it was always worth it to wait for Arthur, because in the end, he would never disappoint her.

Even if she disappointed him.

_A/N: Aaaaand my first Snogwarts Challenge is COMPLETE! Molly Weasley/Mad-Eye Moody! I am such a bamf, look at how legit this shit is! Feel free to take this seriously or to think it's absolutely ridiculous. Either reaction is quite welcome._

_Check out more Snogwarts Crackfics in our profile!!_


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